


Rainbows Over Jersey

by leftennant



Series: Road Trip of Champions [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Darcyland - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Wintershock - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 19:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant
Summary: That one time Bucky was dead...except he wasn't.  Can he and Darcy ever find their way back to each other?  And why the hell is she in New Jersey?????





	1. Five Years Late to the Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnieMar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMar/gifts), [amidtheflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/gifts).
**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky finds out just how fucked up things are...and Darcy plants a geranium. Because reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, bitches. miss me?  

> 
> Beta'd by amidtheflowers, because she is the best person on the planet and puts up with my ridiculous ass. this is for the [Promptkin Spice Challenge Event](https://anniemar.tumblr.com/post/187454755617/anniemar-promptkin-spice-the-return-of-fall) on tumblr, and my spices are cayenne and cinnamon. if you haven't checked this event out yet, you totally should. (and yes okay, i'm helping to run the event but still, it's a fun event and you get a custom made banner, gifset, or photoset for your fic if you participate, yay!)
> 
> ***********************************************************************************

Bucky’s first thought when his feet touched solid ground again, even in the heat of the battle raging all around them, was of her. His mind filled with images of her, all gorgeous blue eyes, curves that chased his dreams at night, and those lips that smiled and pouted, and stole his heart the moment they met. But there was a battle...the worst damn battle he’d ever been in. It was chaos everywhere Bucky looked. Then it suddenly stopped looking so much like chaos, and more like a great tide turning in their favor. Minutes later, it was over. 

Remembering Darcy turned into a downright ache. Bucky scanned the battlefield to find someone who might know where she was. He skipped over those on the ground, eyes meeting Steve’s. The look in them told him they’d suffered a terrible loss. Bucky felt weary to his very soul. There was always grieving after war. Celebration, sure. But the grieving doesn’t stop just ‘cause your side won. It’s all the more bitter for the winning. And so his feelings were set aside again as he went to console those suffering.

It wasn’t until much later that he could ask the question burning him up from inside. The question was simple, really: where was Darcy, and how fast could he get there? For the second time that day, Steve’s eyes gave him away before he ever got out a word. Bucky knew what those knitted brows meant, and it was nothing good. But when Steve finally did speak, it was beyond anything Bucky had imagined.

“Buck, before you go calling her, we...uh...we need to talk.”

One of Bucky’s knees buckled, causing him to stagger. He fought to hold onto speech while a hideous sick feeling bubbled up in his stomach. “Is she…” he faltered. “Stevie, please, just tell me. Did I lose her?”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. “No!” His voice softened. “No, Bucky. As far as I know, she’s alive and well.”

“As far as you _know_??? What’s that supposed to mean? We live in the same goddamn Stark fortress you do. How long have you been out in the field?!”

“It’s not about how long I’ve been out in the field, Buck. It’s about the snap.”

“What the hell does the snap have to do with this?” The plates in his hand ground together as it balled up into a tightly clenched fist. He had to force his fingers to relax as he continued. “You said she was alive and well. Jesus christ, Steve, just spit it out. Where is my girl?”

Steve hesitated. “The last I knew, she was living in Jersey.”

Bucky’s mind whirled. _Jersey? What the hell was in Jersey?_ “Is this some kinda joke?”

“No. She moved there about a year after you disappeared.”

“A...a _year_?” The room tilted, and he fought back the urge to heave. “How long?” he ground out through his teeth.

There was a sickening pause before Steve said, “Five years, Buck.”

Bucky felt his world shiver into dust all around, as surely as if it, and not just he, had been caught in the snap.

**Meanwhile, back in New Jersey...**

Darcy Lewis buried the last of the television remotes in her backyard, and planted a lovely scented geranium on top for good measure. This was all part of her five step plan to stay the hell away from the news, and wait for death in peace. Sure she knew that you didn’t necessarily need a remote to turn on the tv, but she’d never once in her life switched a television without a remote, and she wasn’t about to start now. Probably. 

The other four steps went as followed. Turn off all TVs in the house. Check. Freeze phone in a block of ice. Check. Freeze secondary phone in a secondary block of ice. Check. Hide from the neighbors. Not yet checked off, but she was on it. Darcy brushed off the dirt, went inside, and locked the door behind her. Check.

She knew what was on the news anyway. The Avengers had assembled...or what was left of them. Darcy wasn’t even sure who all was even in the Avengers anymore really, and hadn’t been to the facility upstate in years. The memories haunting those halls picked at the edges of her heart until they were ragged and bleeding. She hadn’t answered her phone when Steve called either. That phone had gone into the freezer still ringing.

None of it mattered anymore. It wasn’t part of the world she lived in. She’d tried so hard at first. Tried to be there for her friends. Tried to work through the haze of crippling grief which tinted her whole world after the snap that stole Bucky from her. Tried, and tried, and tried, until the trying began to bury her like the remotes in her yard. And in the end what really worked was getting the hell out. So she did.

Back when she and Bucky were newly married, he had some adorable pie in the sky dream about them leaving the facility and moving to a cute little place in the suburbs. He had all these ideas about how it should look. Not too big, with a walkway to the front door, hardwood floors, a backyard for their dog, Bandit. 

She’d lost Bandit in the snap too. What a cruel cut that had been. He was in her arms at the time, normally sweet brown eyes wide with terror. Darcy had shoved that memory as deep as she could, but it still escaped sometimes, hovering around her thoughts like a ghost. His leash hung on a hook by the front door along with Bucky’s dog tags. She would touch them like a talisman before she went out.

They were hanging there now, still and quiet as the rest of the house. Darcy loved the house. It was as close as she could get to the one in Bucky’s dreams. She knew every dusty corner, and full to the brim closet. Somehow she felt closer to Bucky here than she had at their quarters upstate. He’d never lived in the house, but his memory flowed through it like water. Darcy flowed through it too, slowly letting bits of the pain drift away out the open windows.

It was her home. She’d fled there when things were the darkest, and eventually learned to allow some light back in. So she healed a little, worked through it a little, saw a therapist weekly, and avoided the news. Four more years slipped by without her marking their passing. Darcy didn’t go to the memorials more than once. They were too hard, too final. She preferred to spend the day in her own backyard. Remembering.

Although she wasn’t sure how much remembering she’d be doing that day. Somehow, some way Thanos was back, and the Avengers that were left were fighting him. Darcy caught a split second of the news on a gas station television as she paid for her morning coffee. A split second was more than enough for her to snatch up her coffee, and rush home to bury the remotes. That task completed, she settled down on her couch and waited to die...or not. It would probably be death, she reasoned. Thanos didn’t seem like the kind of guy to show up a second time just to say hi. Nah. It was gonna be death, and Darcy was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little note on where i've been and what's been up, because some people know, but a lot of people don't. about two years ago i was diagnosed with some really shitty stuff. incurable stuff. stuff that means extraneous hobby things like writing, and fandom were impossible. after way too many months of (horrible, painful, invasive) weekly treatments, and no help at all, i finally found a doctor who got things somewhat under control. it's been a slow-ass journey to get to a point where i could even turn on my laptop again, but i'm here. i'm trying. i'm writing.
> 
> i don't know what the future holds. last week they found a mass crowding up my insides and being an absolute shit. i have surgery later this month to remove it, and then the fun waiting game of biopsies and results, and i'm really NOT looking forward to any of that. so if you could all just have a lot of fun doing the fandom thing with me right now, that would be incredibly helpful. i need a distraction from the scary stuff looming on the horizon. have fun with me, guys. that's all i ask.
> 
> xox
> 
> Lefty


	2. Nobody's Last Meal Should Be Froot Loops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy gets tired of waiting for death, and Bucky finds himself on the wrong side of a closed door. But not for long...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i allowed to say you guys made me cry? because you did. i forgot how truly amazing this fandom can be, and i'm blown away by all the comments, and kindness, and support. thank you so much for every word and kudo. they mean the world to me, and i'll be answering all the reviews today. <3<3<3. now, for ficcy stuff. as usual i have zero chill, and now there is going to be a fourth chapter with extra smut...because...well...reasons. and now, onto the angst! (nobody panic, this is the last of the angst, and everyone knows i can't write a sad ending to save my life, so that's not happening. i promise) Beta'd by the incomparable amidtheflowers. but then of course i went in and wrote stuff after, so if you see mistakes they are all mine. ;)
> 
> ****************************************************************

By six pm, it became apparent that death wasn’t being exactly cooperative. Darcy had gotten tired of sitting on the couch hours earlier. She decided if she was going to die she might as well shower and eat something. It was a short leap from a bowl of cereal to digging up one remote. A girl can’t live on Froot Loops alone, and dammit, Darcy wanted her Netflix. Netflix was safe. No news, just delightful amounts of media to consume until the end of the world.

She was sitting there contemplating maybe just unfreezing _one_ phone when a hesitant knock sounded on her front door. Darcy stood, unsure if she should open the door or not. On one hand, Thanos’ goonsquad didn’t seem like the type to politely knock. On the other hand, it would be a truly epic strategy, like the old Landshark skits, but instead of a shark you’d be straight up murdered by a giant grape bubblegum hued motherfucker. Plus if she opened the door someone would probably tell her what was going on in regards to the grape bubblegum motherfucker, and Darcy wasn’t interested.

Just when she had another bite of cereal hovering and ready to go the doorbell rang. She seriously doubted it was Thanos at this point. His fingers were too damn big to make the button work. Still, she wasn’t opening that door come hell or highwater.

“GO AWAY,” she yelled at whoever was outside her door. “Thanos is going to be here any minute, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to finish this cereal first!”

There was a soft shuffling sound outside the door, and then a voice that Darcy hadn’t heard for five years said, “Darce?”

Darcy was a reader. Had been a reader since she was an itty bitty girl. She knew all the old tropes about dead lovers suddenly turning up alive. The world tilts on its axis, blood rushes in your ears, your stomach drops away into an unending tunnel of nothing, and you’re frozen to the spot, unable to speak. She knew each one, and used to roll her eyes at them. They sounded so fake, so unbelievable. The moment her numb fingers managed to turn the lock, and open the door, she realized that she owed every single author an apology.

Bucky was on her doorstep. _Bucky_, just standing there, looking as scared as she felt. 

Darcy looked him up and down, swallowed hard, and whispered, “Hi.” Then she shut the door in his face, leaned back against it, and went to pieces.

  
  
**Five minutes earlier, on the other side of the door…**  


The drive from upstate to a small suburban street in Jersey had been a nightmare for Bucky. His mind already felt shredded from the battle with Thanos, and he had no idea what kind of welcome he could expect from Darcy. _Five years_. What if she’d found someone else? The thought crept around his heart until it felt fragile as the spun glass ornaments his ma put near the top of the tree at Christmas. Cracks were already forming when he put the car in park, making Bucky wonder if maybe he should have just kept driving. And then he saw it.

She’d bought his house, _their_ house. Every detail was exactly how he pictured, the brick, the walkway, the bushes beneath the windows. And soaring above it was the tallest damn rainbow Bucky’d ever seen. It didn’t seem real, hanging there in the evening sky like something that shouldn’t even exist. But it did, kind of like his whole relationship with Darcy. He hoped it was a sign.

There was no one else around as he crossed the street, no one to see him hesitate on the doorstep, or to watch him as he knocked. Knocking itself took three tries, and by the third Bucky felt like a frayed wire. “C’mon Barnes, you can do this,” he muttered, drawing back his fist for a final attempt. He knocked softly, heart in his throat. And then...nothing happened.

Seconds slid by as Bucky stood there waiting. He began to worry that he wasn’t loud enough, and that’s when he spotted the doorbell. A few more seconds disappeared permanently while his finger hovered over the button. After a reverberating sigh of impatience at his own idiocy, Bucky gave it a quick buzz. Once again there was nothing...until…

“GO AWAY!”

It was her. She was really there in the house they’d dreamed about owning someday. She was inside, and clearly by her tone, irritated as hell. 

Before he could process this information any further, Darcy continued, “Thanos is going to be here any minute, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to finish this cereal first!”

It was so very Darcy, that Bucky smiled despite his nerves. “Darce?”

He heard a clatter like a silverware being dropped, a muffled curse, and then the lock began to turn. The door opened and there she was, and Bucky wondered just how the familiar could feel so unfamiliar at the same time. She was still Darcy. Still his girl with the laughing blue eyes, curves that had him aching to hold her, and lips that set him alight too many times to count. Those eyes weren’t laughing now, though. They looked about as scared as he felt, wide and wary.

When she spoke her voice was raspy and soft. “Hi.”

All the feelings Bucky had been trying to hard to contain surged up to the surface, choking him, and before he could utter a single word of response she shut the door in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the chapter seems short. right now i can manage about a thousand words at a time before i start feeling like shit, so it's the best i can do. the next chapter is longer, so there's that to look forward to, yay! (plus smut, so double yay!)


	3. I Don't Care Where I Am, As Long As You're There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a whole lot to say today except that I love this fandom. Coming back to Darcyland was like coming home, and you guys rule. Also this chapter isn't exactly safe for work. And the next chapter won't be either. So.... Yeah. Here be the reunion smuts. ;) Also today is a bad day and I'm on the heavy duty meds, so when i was trying to type in the html code to center things I kept typing Centaur and not Center, and was completely baffled when ao3 wouldn't center my asterisks for me. Or centaur them. No centaurs for me, guys. Not today, anyway. Beta'd by amidtheflowers, who loves me even when I'm broken.
> 
> *******************************************************************

In all her years of dealing with the crazy shit that working for Jane, and then Shield, had brought into her life, Darcy had never once dissolved into a panic. Sure she’d been scared, who wouldn’t be when evil space elves tried to destroy the earth right in front of them. She’d been scared as fuck, but she kept her shit together enough to kick their asses right back to...wherever they went. Svartalfheim? Space Asshole Middle Earth? Wherever. But she’d never ever frozen, not once. Even when the snap happened she didn’t lose it. She was too busy not giving up hope that they’d find a way to reverse it. Nothing worked, but it was something to keep her mind busy until she bailed from upstate.

This, though, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Darcy Lewis was well and truly destroyed. As she shook and sobbed on her side of the door she could hear Bucky pleading with her from his side.

“Darce? Darcy please. Please open the door.”

Her only available response was to hiccup wildly between sobs. 

“Look, I know this is a shock. Steve tried calling to break it to you easy, but you weren’t picking up. We kept trying for hours. I finally gave up and just drove down. And I…” She could hear his voice start to break, and the shuddering breath he took to get it back. “I know you had five years to get over me, but I’m hoping…” He paused again briefly. “I’m hoping you didn’t. In fact, I’m counting on it, because there’s no living for me without you. Darcy? At least let me tell you this face to face and not through a door.”

She wanted to open the door. Badly. But her body just wouldn’t cooperate. It was too stunned to process a single second of what was going on, and turn that into action. There was a soft thud from the other side of the door then complete silence. For a second she thought he’d gone, and the panic _really_ set in. Then he spoke again, saying the one word that cut through the hectic storm of emotion surging inside. 

“I love you, Spot.”

It was the ridiculous nickname that did it. The muscles that had been refusing to work only seconds before came to life. She scrambled to her feet, fingers stumbling over the lock until it slid back with a click. There was a moment where she just stood there, her hand around the doorknob while she took shaky breaths to steady herself. _She could do this. She could open this door, and let him in and…_

Darcy opened the door, and was immediately flattened by a truly epic amount of off-balance super soldier. He’d been leaning against the door, apparently. It wasn’t exactly how she pictured their reunion, sprawled against the coat closet door while Bucky swore his head off. 

“Jesus Christ, Darce, I’m so sorry. You alright? Did I hurt you?”

He’d managed to reclaim his balance with one hand pressed flat against the wall, and the other was hanging onto Darcy for dear life so she didn’t tumble onto the floor. Darcy wobbled, already shaky knees taking a direct hit the moment her eyes met his. It took three tries for her desert-dry tongue to wrangle words into actual speech, and even then they were barely above a whisper. “You’re here. This is real, right? You’re _here_.”

His eyes were full of worry and doubt, but a momentary smile flashed across his lips. “Yeah. It’s real.”

“Everyone else?”

“Almost,” he said quietly, and lines of pain creased his forehead. “We had some bad losses.”

She nodded, afraid to ask more. “I want to know, but not yet. Not right now. I can't.”

“Later,” he agreed, and she nodded again.

“Thanos?”

“Dead.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Looked like it,” he replied. 

“Good.” She felt a pleasant sense of murderous satisfaction. “May he rot in whatever hell that chewed bubblegum goes to after it commits universe-wide genocide.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Bucky said.

“Amen.” Darcy swallowed hard. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

The smile was back, tentative, but there. “Last time I checked. Got a few new bruises, couple of broken ribs healing up, but it’s me. Is uh...is that what you want? Me?”

She could feel the nervous energy rolling off him and joining hers in the small space. It was too much, too bright and loud and real. Darcy felt like there weren’t so much butterflies in her stomach as there were freight trains thundering around. Her whole world had detached from reality, and the only points that held her to the earth were where his body was touching hers. She needed that anchor so very badly. Needed more, and more, and more until there was no space between them.

Without conscious thought, she reached up to cup his face. Fingers trailed over familiar pathways, across cheekbones, brows, and down the slope of his nose. By the time they were tracing over the soft peaks and valleys of his lips, Darcy was lost. 

“It’s really you. I thought I was dreaming...or dead. We’re not, are we?”

“Spot, do you think I’d care if I was dead as long as you were there with me?”

A hysterical little laugh slipped through her lips before she could stop it. “No. Me either. I don’t care where I am as long as you’re there. God. You’re _real_.”

“Is that a yes then? You still want me?”

“Bucky Barnes, I’ve spent five years wanting nothing but you. All day, every day. So I’m gonna say the answer is yes.”

She’d barely gotten out the yes before his lips were on hers. There had been an ache inside Darcy for five long years, a vicious ball of nothingness and pain. She’d swallowed it down over and over, each time more bitter than the last. That ache collapsed in on itself the very moment he cupped her face in his hands and pulled it to his. Fresh tears spilled down her face, because he was _back_, and _safe_, and in her arms. It was almost more than a girl could handle, but she was damn well going to try.

Back in the early days, when Darcy still held out hope that a way could be found to reverse the snap, she’d daydreamed their reunion. How it would feel, what they would say… But after a while those thoughts hurt more than they helped. In the end she put them away with everything else. She couldn’t control them spilling into her dreams, though. At night she’d dreamed of Bucky coming home, and in the morning she’d wake to frustrated tears because it wasn’t real.

This kiss was real, and no dreams had prepared her for how it would feel. She was lit up, anchored, all the cracked pieces of her heart sealed back together into a whole. Her only conscious thought was that she needed _more_, and she needed it immediately.

Her hands slid up his back, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer. “Please,” she whispered against his lips. “Please…”

Bucky pulled back just long enough to kick the door shut behind him, his face going through a litany of expressions; hope, relief, and beneath it a desperate need that Darcy was sure was echoed in her own. “You sure about this, Spot? I don’t want to rush you if…”

For the first time in her entire life Darcy Lewis had absolutely no words at her command. They’d all fled the minute he kicked the door shut. So she kissed him instead.

Seconds tumbled over each other, each one imprinting a memory of his touch on her skin like indelible ink. New memories were made as their clothing dropped to the floor. In they end they barely made it to her couch. Darcy felt it bump the back of her shins around the time Bucky was throwing her underwear across the room. They fell onto it with him on top. She’d never remembered feeling so frantic with want. Bucky appeared to be in the same boat. There was a momentary scramble of limbs as they sorted themselves out, and then he was right there, lips less than a breath away. 

Darcy’s nerves were humming like high tension wires under her skin, picking up every place where her body met his. It was too much and not nearly enough. She wanted him everywhere, wanted that fire in her nerves to burn and echo and consume them both until there was nothing left of the emptiness she’d been holding for five long years.

“Please,” she whispered again, and he nodded.

“Whatever you want, doll. Always.”

And then he was inside, and the sudden sense of wholeness was nearly more than she could bear. He began to move, the push and pull so familiar but also strangely new after all the years apart. Darcy felt it to the core of her being. Her eyes slid shut, and for a few minutes all she could do was feel, and breathe, and hold on. She didn’t even know there were tears slipping out from under her closed lids under she felt his fingers wiping them away.

When they opened again, it was to the sight of his face above her, and she wondered if anyone had ever felt such a fragile, perfect joy in their whole lives. Because it _was_ fragile. Darcy was half-afraid that she’d wake up once again, alone and desolate, with this glorious dream fading away in a grey mist. Instead it stayed. _He_ stayed. This was no dream, and Darcy wondered if her palms were striking sparks as they traveled over Bucky’s skin they way his were on hers.

If the look in his eyes was any indication, they were.

And then conscious thought faded. All Darcy could do was feel as they moved together. She couldn’t get enough of the friction between them. Bucky must have felt the same, reaching beneath her thigh and pulling it higher, each thrust building a sweet burning ache inside her that grew and grew until it became the focus of her entire world. In that moment Darcy felt cracked wide open. She wondered wildly if he could see her heart, fiercely beating with his name written upon it.

She wanted to speak, tell him everything she was feeling. But words couldn’t compete with sensation, and she just wanted to _feel_ for the rest of her life. Then Bucky shifted, the angle of him inside her changed, and Darcy buried her head in his shoulder with a broken little cry as her body shook with release.

He followed seconds later, emptying inside her with a desperate groan while his fingers bit into her hips. That sound loosed something inside Darcy. She began to tremble all over, lungs hitching. 

Bucky pulled back in alarm. “Jesus, Darce. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head frantically, both hands over her mouth trying to hold back the sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not sure why… These are _not_ sad tears, I swear. I mean you’re back, and I’m so happy. I don’t understand why…”

“Shock,” he said. “My fault for showing up unannounced after five years and taking you straight to bed.”

“One,” Darcy replied between shaky breaths, “that was all me. And two, this is not our bed.”

“Our bed, huh?” He flashed a teasing grin at her as he brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “Does that mean you’re keeping me?”

She smiled back at him through her tears. “Yeah. I’m keeping you. But you are taking out the trash from now on. I swear to god there’s a racoon out there that looks like he’s going to ask for protection money any second.”

Bucky chuckled at her description. “Remind me to tell you about this raccoon I met. Tried to take my arm.”

“I’m sorry, you ‘met’ a raccoon? Exactly where did you meet this raccoon? Mascara convention?”

“Something like that,” Bucky laughed again, and she found herself laughing too, filled with an unfettered happiness she’d forgotten existed. “You’d probably like him. He was a real little shit.”

“Then I’d definitely like him.” 

Bucky talked for a while, telling her more about Rocket, and some of the other beings who’d lent a hand in defeating Thanos. He skirted carefully around the hard things they weren’t talking about yet, and her tears trickled away as he spoke. It was everything just to hear his voice, everything just to be able to reach out and touch him. She listened to every word, fingers roaming over his skin, and twining in his hair. 

It was either the excitement, the shock, or both, but Darcy found herself hit by a cloying sense of lethargy. She did her best to fight back a yawn, but failed, and tried hiding it behind her hand. Bucky caught it anyway, and began fumbling around with one hand along the back of the couch.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked.

“Looking for something,” he replied.

“What something?”

His face lit up in triumph, and he held aloft a knitted throw blanket. “This. I can’t let my best girl get cold.”

“How did you know that was back there?” she asked in amazement.

“Because you always keep one over the back of the couch. That’s how. Here...” He shifted them both until she was the small spoon with him behind her. 

The blanket settled over them with a soft whuff, and she turned to look at him. “Promise you’ll be here when I wake up.”

“You have my word, Darcy. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded. “Good.”

He gently kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep, Spot. I’ve got you.”

“No letting go,” she murmured sleepily.

His voice wafted over her as her eyes began to close. “Not a chance, doll. Not a chance.”

*********************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   



	4. Sunset to Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which promises are remade, and bonds reforged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys. YOU GUYS. this is the last chapter!!!! i did the thing! i can't believe i came back after being sick for two years, and you guys were here ready to hang out just like always. thank you so very very much for that. you have no idea what it means, it truly got me right in the feels.
> 
> okay so, sorry this chapter took a bit to post, and that i need to reply to a few comments. it's been a busy and rough couple of weeks. i promise everyone will get replies shortly. this chapter has a lot of italics. also smut, but like _classy_ smut because of schmoop. i'm not apologizing for either. love me, love my smut and italics problem. ;D
> 
> there's a couple people i need to thank, because without them i'd be lost: Anniemar, who got my muse kick-started again, amidtheflowers because she's the world's most patient beta even though i'm like a wreck, and lavachick85 for major inspiration and help when my photoset was crashing and burning. you guys rock. thank you so much.
> 
> ***********************************************************************

It was well past midnight when Bucky woke. For a few seconds he shifted into soldier mode, eyes scanning the unfamiliar room for danger. Then his memories spilled in, and all anxiety bled away as he listened to the soft breathing of the girl in his arms. He wasn’t frozen or lost; there was nothing to fear in the night-still house.

_Home_, she’d called it. Their home. Bucky knew there’d be some hurdles to cross yet. Five years was a long time to come back from, but he knew the minute those words left her lips she still loved him, and he sure as hell loved her. It was as solid a foundation as Bucky knew, and he was willing to rebuild the rest brick by brick if necessary. Whatever Darcy needed, and however she needed it, that’s what he’d do. Because there was a lot Bucky could live without, but he’d meant what he said when he told her there was no living for him without her. Not anymore.

He hoped it was still the same for her. 

There were other things to be discussed, things he knew couldn’t wait much longer. She hadn’t been ready for any more grief the night before and he’d been happy to not talk about what went down on that battlefield with Thanos. Sometime tomorrow he’d have to tell her. For now, Bucky was just content to hold her in his arms and listen to her breathe.

Not on this couch, though. That was for damn sure. Bucky’s right arm had fallen asleep long ago, the fingers frozen and tingling as he tried to stretch his arm without waking her. She shivered as he thought this, unconsciously curling more tightly into him under the thin throw blanket he’d tossed over them earlier. Bucky wasn’t sure if he should try to find her room and move them both there. She might wake up. She might not be ready. _What if it scared her off?_ He warred over the decision for a bit. In the end he decided to find out where the bedroom was and risk waking her by moving them both to a bed.

Sometimes his training came in handy. Bucky doubted even Natasha could have gotten off that couch more stealthily than he did. Darcy muttered grumpily, frowning in her sleep, but she didn’t wake up, so Bucky considered it a win. He slipped down the hall, peering into darkened rooms until he found the one he was looking for. Then he headed back to get his girl.

As he was entering the living room again he saw a faint glint coming from a line of hooks hanging near the front door. It took him less than a second to make out his dog tags and Bandit’s leash. He didn’t even know he’d crossed the room until he was holding both in his hand, staring down at them with a mixture of feelings. She’d kept his dog tags, and hadn’t tucked them away in a drawer somewhere or in a box under the bed, but right there next to the door. Bucky felt a sharp pang in the chest as the implication of what this meant hit him. 

She’d never given up.

His desperate hope that they’d get through this solidified into reality. They’d get through this because Darcy had never given up on them in five fucking _years_. He glanced down at her still curled up on the couch and smiled. Years earlier when Steve and Natasha tricked them both into a road trip he’d never forget, Bucky could remember thinking that Darcy really was something. If he’d only known how often that stubborn inability to give up would save his ass, he would have asked her to marry him that first night on the road.

He started to replace the tags and the leash when something struck him. The leash was by the door, made sense he figured, it was the easiest place to keep it for walks. Except if the leash was here, where was Bandit? It took him barely five seconds to take in the lack of anything else a dog would need in the house. Bucky felt sick. She was keeping the leash and the dog tags together in the same spot by the door where she’d see them whenever she went in and out. She’d lost them both, and the thought of what that must have been like infuriated him.

Bucky suddenly wished it had been him that killed Thanos. He would have relished crushing his windpipe after this. 

Darcy mumbled in her sleep again, interrupting his murderous thoughts, and Bucky shoved them away. They could be unpacked at a later time with everything else that needed to be discussed, right now he needed to get his girl in bed.

He scooped her into his arms, trying his best to avoid waking her up. It worked for a few seconds, but by the time he was carrying her down the hall she was starting to stir.

“Hey,” she said, blinking owlishly. “Are you here?”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

“Am I naked?” She began twisting this way and that, trying to see her body in the darkness. “Are _you_ naked? Jesus, I hope I don’t wake up this time. I will seriously send a very strongly worded letter to whatever universal being is in charge if I wake up before we get it on again. It’s just fucking rude!”

God help him, Bucky could survive in a firefight no problem, but this was going to kill him. “I’m right here, Doll. Not going anywhere except the bedroom.”

“Wait.”

He paused in the hallway with Darcy going still in his arms. She blinked a few more times, eyes focusing on his face. It took a few seconds, and then he saw realization dawning. "Hey there, Spot,” he said.

“I thought I was dreaming, but I’m not, am I? You’re really real. You’re… you’re back.” Her voice shook with emotion as she spoke, and Bucky pulled her closer in his arms.

“I’m back, and I’m never leaving you again, not even if I have to walk through hell to make it happen.”

“Me too,” she replied with a small, sweet smile that didn’t quite manage to hide the tears in her eyes. “So, where are you taking me, Sarge?”

He smiled back. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Doll, but for now I was thinking a bed.”

“Ah. Good plan.”

“Is it?” 

Bucky had no intention of taking things faster than Darcy was ready for, this was her out if she wanted it. But her answer set his mind, and heart, at ease.

Darcy nodded. “It’s perfect.”

He hitched her up a bit higher in his arms as he stepped across the threshold into her room. It was only a few more steps to the bed, and a moment longer to have them both settled under the covers. She was quiet, watching his face as she brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. Her fingertips lingered on his skin the way they had earlier in the evening, and when they reached his lips he kissed them.

“I missed you so much,” Darcy said, tracing over the plates in his left arm from wrist to shoulder. “Tony, um, he got crisis counselors for all us. My guy kept telling me that it would get easier. That I’d feel less broken in time. And I did, sort of, but the missing you never went away. I went through the motions, sometimes things felt almost normal, but then I’d turn to tell you something, or I’d forget and think you were there, and…” She paused long enough to compose herself again, and continued. “You know, nobody ever tells you that after you lose someone you wake up every day and for one beautiful, _perfect_ second you don’t remember that they’re gone. And then you remember, and it’s like your whole world comes crashing down to land on your chest, and it hurts to breathe. I don’t think I took a full breath in five years, and then when I opened that door…”

She covered her face with both hands. It took less than a second for him to realize it was an attempt to hold back the sobs that were wracking her body. All he could think to do was reach for her, pulling her tight against him as she went to pieces in his arms.

He loved her so much, this beautiful girl that somehow picked _him_ despite how broken he was. He loved her, and would do whatever it took to make things right again. 

Before he could form the words to tell her this, she pulled back just enough that he could see the silvery tracks her tears had taken down her cheeks, and whispered, “Those five years changed me, Bucky. I’m not who I was before I lost you. I’m scared that when you look at me, _really_ look at me, you’ll see I’m not the girl you left behind.”

Darcy’s words were like a punch to the chest. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d ever walk away from her, but Darcy thought he _could_. 

Bucky realized he already knew what to do. He couldn’t take back the past, but sure as hell could give her the future. And he’d do it the same way she had for him, one small step at a time. Starting immediately.

“Lemme get this straight. You’re afraid I’ll take a good look at the person you are now, and run?”

“A little bit,” she admitted. “Not exactly. Sort of.”

He nodded slowly. “You know, before I met you I thought maybe Hydra had removed my emotions permanently, replaced them with metal and gears like my arm. It wasn’t until Steve brought me back with him that I knew they weren’t gone, just buried. Some of them were buried deeper than others. My heart was more busted than not. I thought I’d never feel anything like love again, let alone someone who would want to love me back.”

“How did you fix it?”

“I didn’t,” he replied gently. “_You_ did. You were patient as hell with me, Spot. Probably more patient than I deserved. So I was thinking…maybe it’s my turn to be patient. Go slow. Let my girl find her way back to me the same way she let me find my way to her. Ask her what _she_ wants, and listen. What do you think?”

She sniffled shakily. “That’s literally the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He picked up her hand, turned it over, and kissed her palm. “How’s that?”

“Also good,” she replied, and he chuckled.

“What about this?” Bucky moved on to her wrist, lips skimming her quickening pulse. “Still good?”

“Better than good.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Okay. This then?” And he placed a kiss in the crook of her elbow, turning to rub the stubble on his chin against the thin skin there.

“Now you’re just cheating,” she said. “You know exactly what that does to me, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Wouldn’t want to cheat,” he said. “Scratch that one, let’s try this instead.” He spent a moment letting his lips graze her jaw.

“That is _still_ cheating.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and then each tear-wet cheek. “How about that? Is that cheating?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let me just…” Bucky bent his head and laid a trail of kisses across her collarbone, then glanced up at her. “How about that?”

“Rude,” she said, and he grinned.

“What about this spot right here?” he asked, one finger tracing a lazy circle over her heart.

Darcy laid her hand over his to still it, and his heart throbbed at the sight of the wedding band still there on her third finger. “I love you,” she said. “I can’t remember if I told you that since you got back. I _love_ you, Bucky.”

The declaration hung in the quiet surrounding them, echoes of her words floating in the air. Bucky thought if he looked up he would see them shimmering like stars above him. 

“I know you do, Spot.”

“Swear to me I’m not dreaming. Promise you won’t be gone in the morning.”

“You’re not dreaming, and I’m going to be right here from now on.”

“Promise?” Her fingers tightened around the metal bands in his hand, eyes searching his for confirmation.

“I swear it, Darce. I’m alive. I’m here. This isn’t a dream, and there is no part of the rest of my life that won’t be spent with you, if you’ll have me.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “Okay.”

And then she kissed him.

************************************************************************

Muscle memory is a beautiful thing. This thought flitted through Darcy’s head around the same time her husband did that move with his teeth on her bottom lip that always left her feeling breathless with want. It was a _gift_ just like every second of her new, new normal.

He was alive.

He was _here_

Bucky was working his way down her neck, there was a cool vibranium hand cupping her right breast, and Darcy was lost. She didn’t understand how the world’s most fucked up situation had become so very unfucked, but she’d have to think about that later. For the moment she just wanted to live in the here and now where Bucky was closing his lips around her nipple.

She was definitely awake, because this was so much better than any dream. Her subconscious was seriously lacking in that department. Thank god reality was _not_ lacking. Reality was Bucky kissing his way down her body, as she burned and fizzed and lit up like a roman candle. It was him telling her he loved her as his hands skimmed over every inch of skin, when his hands coaxed her legs apart, and when his mouth covered her, and his tongue…

Darcy couldn’t remember reality ever seeming so very real before. The past and the present merged together in her bed, memories of their time together before the snap twining effortlessly with the present. Oh, she _remembered_ this. He knew exactly how to make her cry out his name, hips rolling helplessly as his arms wrapped around her thighs. Oh yes, muscle memory was a glorious thing.

Her first release was sweet as candy. It traveled like sugared euphoria through her veins, but the second? The second shook her until her fingers were tangled in his hair, and she was gasping words like ‘fuck’, and ‘jesus’ and ‘I fucking love you, Bucky Barnes’. 

And then he was moving back up her body, and when she saw his cocky grin and messy hair she laughed from the sheer joy of it. 

“I love you,” he said, head dipping down so his lips met hers.

“I love you,” she whispered just before she tasted herself on his tongue, and her body lifted up to bring them closer together. And then he was there, pressing against her entrance, and Darcy wondered if anyone had ever wanted anyone as much as she wanted Bucky. _God, she loved him._

He pushed inside her just the smallest bit, and she bit her bottom lip, staring up at his normally brilliant blue eyes, now darkened with need. Bucky was watching her too, scanning her face cautiously as he moved. Darcy suddenly realized he was keeping track of her emotional state as he slowly worked his way deeper. The knowledge just about set her off crying again. But then he pulled back and pushed forward again, and all thought was lost to the sensation within.

“Still with me, Spot?” he asked, and she nodded. 

“Always.”

“Good. Because I’ve got a lot of time to make up for, and this is just the start.”

He set an almost painfully slow pace, lips meeting hers over and over as he thrust and withdrew nearly completely before lazily rocking back into her again. It had her digging her fingers into the bedsheets and clutching his hips while she gasped his name into his mouth.

She was already far too close to her climax when he slipped his hand between them so his thumb could roll over her clit. It rubbed and coaxed until she was hanging on by the very thinnest of threads, trying so hard to stretch it out as long as she could.

“Bucky,” she whimpered, and he met her eyes with a burning gaze that knocked the air straight out of her lungs.

He reached down to take her hand in his vibranium one, and pulled them both up to rest entwined next to her pillow. “It’s okay, Doll. I swear it. I’m right here with you. Let go, Darcy.” 

His words loosened the last threads of fear that were protecting her heart. Darcy could feel them go, floating away in the streaks of early morning light beginning to slip through the window. Then they were gone, and all that was left was Bucky’s words in her ear, and his fingers teasing her closer and closer with every thrust.

It was everything. There was a rushing sensation, a brilliant glow spreading from where they were joined to consume her utterly. She managed one more breath, in and out, and then dissolved around him with a force that set every nerve ending in her body humming.

She was grounded, alive, set free from heartache, and doubt, and endless, crippling loss. Darcy was able to _feel_. God was she ever able to feel. She felt every second of Bucky’s release, felt his body grow taut, his thighs pushing her legs further apart, his hot breath on her lips. It felt like heaven, and she was never ever going to be able to get enough of him, but she sure as fuck was going to make the very most of the reprieve they’d been given. More light was softly filtering into the room as he held himself up on his arms above her, and she could see the beautiful lines of his cheekbones and jaw.

“Hey there, Beautiful,” he murmured. “Could I interest you in one slightly battered, complicated as hell, and absolutely smitten ex-dead guy who wants to spend the rest of his life right here in this bed with you?”

Darcy was still catching her breath, but managed a grin. “How could any girl say no to that?”

Bucky was still chuckling as he rolled off of her and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder while her fingers roamed up and down the length of his torso, re-committing each centimeter to memory. Dawn was breaking. The pale yellow rays spilled into the room, lighting up his outline next to hers on the bed, and Darcy wanted the world to pause just so that she could hold that moment in the palm of her hand forever.

The world didn’t pause, but the minutes stretched by with them touching, and talking, and learning each other all over again. Darcy finally asked about the final battle, and Bucky told her everything with a gentleness that most people didn’t even know he possessed. There were more tears as her heart broke afresh with the news of people she loved who had lost their lives to a psychopathic wad of grape bubblegum with genocidal tendencies. 

Tony, _Tony_, the guy who never failed to make her laugh if he wasn’t making her want to throw a stapler at him, was gone. And...Nat… Darcy had to stop herself from thinking about it, it was just too much to take. All of it was, really. Bucky seemed to sense this, tugging her closer in his arms, and rolling them both so that she was the little spoon. Her body eased immediately, tension tamped down by the strong arms wrapped around her. She was so tired. So very, very, tired.

“Would you be mad if I fall asleep,” she mumbled.

“No unless you’ll be mad if I do. It’s been a long forty-eight hours. I’ll be sleeping right along with you, Doll.”

“Okay. Love you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Love you, Gorgeous. Always.”

***************************************************************

EPILOGUE

***************************************************************

It was past noon when Bucky’s phone rang, waking them from sleep. He cursed under his breath and ran down the hall to find the damn thing. The ring was an official Avengers tone, one everybody on the team knew couldn’t be ignored. He finally found the damn thing under the couch next to the jeans he’d been wearing the day before, and answered.

“Yeah, Bucky here. Something wrong?”

“Hey uh, Bucky, it’s Clint. Sorry to bother you man, but there’s someone here that’s been looking all over the damn place for you and Darcy. He’s short, has long ears, and just inhaled two whole cans of dog food without taking a breath. Sound familiar?”

_Jesus_ Bucky hadn’t even thought about Bandit. He started to smile, knowing what the news would mean for Darcy. “We’ll start driving as soon as I can get her out of bed.”

“Nah man. He’s okay. We’ve got him over at the farm right now, and the kids are practically drowning him in attention. Take your time. I’m sure you two have things to talk about.”

“If I know Darcy, the minute I tell her, she's gonna want to get right in the car. We’ll be seeing you later today, Barton.”

“Suit yourself. We’ll be here.”

The call ended, and Bucky glanced down the hall to see Darcy standing there, clad in the sheet from their bed with one end still trailing back into the bedroom. 

“I know that ringtone. Is everything okay?” she asked, her fingers nervously pleating the fabric in her fingers. “It sounds like we need to head upstate.”

“Yeah. Everything is okay, but I think we might want to stop by at a pet supply place on our way,” he replied. “We’ve got someone waiting for us there.”

She almost dropped the sheet, one hand covering her mouth as her eyes lit up. “Really? Are you really serious? Bandit?” He nodded and she raced up the hall into his arms, sheet billowing out behind her. “Can we leave now? Oh my god we need his leash.”

Just as fast she dashed out of his arms and across the room, grabbing both the leash and Bucky’s dog tags. When she got back to him she stretched up on tiptoe and carefully looped the chain of the dog tags around his neck. They were cold against his bare skin, but the only thing Bucky Barnes cared about at that moment was that his girl was smiling after far too many tears. There would be more in the coming week, he knew there would, but at least she had this.

She also had him, and he was going to make damn sure that it stayed that way. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   



End file.
